Snake Bites
by SinnamonDumpling
Summary: When a new orderly starts out at Arkham Asylum he is unaware of the curiosity centred around him by the patients, especially that of the Rogues Gallery. With his own secret past about to be unearthed Adrien finds himself between a rock and a hard place. The rock being a certain fear-obsessed doctor and the hard place being the Batman himself...(Comics and Games universes used)
1. Introduction

_Introduction_

 _The Interview_

* * *

There was nothing he hated more than nervously waiting for an interviewer. Even if that wasn't bad enough somehow by being in an empty, and frankly derelict, waiting room with screams echoing through the nearby corridors only worsened the experience. It was not necessarily the screaming that unnerved him, he had become used to howling and wailing souls, it was simply the atmosphere of the old mansion and how he felt it singularly in the room. It was so old, so damaged and so predictably grim that it was hardly a surprise it housed so many deranged people. Within the first fifteen minutes of waiting he had felt the air sour on his tongue, a sense of invisible hands constricting around his throat and chest, his head being squeezed until an unbearable headache was created...

It was all quite thrilling.

"Ah my apologies," came a pompous voice that didn't sound apologetic at all. The Warden waddled towards him with his one hand holding a rather intricate walking stick and the other outstretched in a greeting. "I trust you don't mind the delay."

He swallowed down any sarcastic retorts, stood up, and forced himself to shake the slippery hand in a firm handshake. He wiped the sweat from his own secretly behind his thigh before answering. "Not at all, Warden."

"Please, call me Quincy. It is better if the staff are all...equals."

He frowned. "But this is just an interview, yes?"

Sharp laughed obnoxiously. "My boy, do you know how many people I have _interviewed_ this month alone?" Sharp paused but without an answer he continued, "likely thirty people, and only six of those thirty have remained as staff...and only two are still well-minded. Therefore, yes, in traditional terms this is an interview but you may as well start the job today. I doubt you'll last the month."

Filled to the brim with confidence, he nodded his head shortly. "I understand it must be difficult to continually interview potential employees so regularly. I shall do my best to stay...well-minded."

Sharp snorted but smiled piggishly at his confidence. Sharp ushered him to follow him towards the exit of the mansion and into the island's overgrown grounds. The sky was usual smoky grey but some rays of sunshine cut through the clouds. "And your name is?"

"Adrien Elsha. It's on my CV."

"Yes, yes, you have quite the employment history. Why on earth did you want to transfer to Gotham?"

Adrien looked absentmindedly towards a graveyard discarded in a corner of the grounds where vines and weeds were hiding the dead. "Germany has too many ghosts," he answered somberly.

"You'll only find more ghosts here," Sharp said, "that's all this place is."

"Yes but Gotham is infamous for its...colourful citizens. Any foreigner would want to glimpse at such unique individuals."

Sharp halted suddenly and, behind eyes full of disgust, there was a touch of curiosity. "I warn you boy these people are _savages_. They are not even people anymore. I will not need to worry about you becoming close to any of these animals, will I?"

Adrien laughed, not realising that Sharp was serious, but soon the tense air hit him and he stopped. "Warden you have nothing to worry about. I am merely fascinated. I am not about to dress up like a fool and free them," he exclaimed.

Sharp adjusted his tie. This one was an odd one indeed. If he did his job then it really did not matter, he knew Elsha wouldn't last the month or even a week if he was this abnormally chirpy. "Right. Well. Dr Cassidy is about to have a session with Victor Zsasz so let's test how well you can secure a patient."

Adrien noted the doubt in Sharp's tone and took it as a challenge. "It should be no trouble, _Warden_."

As they entered a more pristine, hospital-like building Adrien immediately realised he had been right to quench his curiosity. The screaming was worse here, animalistic, and it was hard to drown it out but he managed to as his hungry eyes scouted the cells. While most of them were dismally plain, or sometimes painted with faeces or other bodily fluids from the more _artistic_ patients, there were a few that even he could recognise as the homes of the costumed criminals he had avidly read about. The lesser known ones were here, at least. He recognised the calendar dates hung up on the walls and the huge man sat with his back arched as he muttered the monthly rhymes. Calender Man. Another cell's walls were scratched and cut into tally marks. Victor Zsasz was notorious for such marks. He guessed by the cell not having an occupant that his challenge was to keep Zsasz restrained and bring him back to his cell. Brilliant.

"The interview rooms are right through here," Sharp explained as they suddenly turned a corner away from the screaming racket and into a more diluted area. Here, the walls were more brown and almost homely and Adrien was surprised at how the asylum's decor could change so rapidly. A few doctors and other orderlies shot him apologetic or even a quick prayer as he and Sharp marched towards the very end of the corridor of interview rooms.

 _Bam!_ Suddenly a door flew open inches away from his face and Adrien let out a short, strangled gasp as he stumbled backwards. The guard responsible glared at him as if it was his fault before he yanked out a dishevelled-looking skeleton.

"Same time friday then, Stephen," the skeleton spoke cheerfully. Somehow the cheerfulness sounded chilling, malicious even. He did not recognise the man as he was quickly pulled away by the guard towards the cells but he _did_ know he was content to see him taken away.

"Are you alright?" Sharp asked with only mild concern.

"Yes," Adrien murmured.

"He wasn't talking to you," snapped a doctor appearing in the doorway, "but yes I am. Though, I would much prefer to have a different patient, Quincy."

"You wanted Crane. You can deal with him."

"I am well aware I chose to be his doctor but consider it a misjudged sense of narcissism and give him to somebody else!" The doctor stormed away sharply with a face redder than the asylum's warning lights.

With the enraged doctor out of earshot Adrien commented, "he's a jolly one."

Sharp glowered. "Hold your tongue when speaking about colleagues. But yes, he is certainly someone aiming too high than what he is capable of. This way."

It was a surprise at how quickly Sharp's attitude could change from being a cheerful colleague to a strict-spoken boss.

Finally Adrien came to his first challenge. Zsasz was as terrifying as the papers had described: his ivory body plastered with deep, reddened marks and eyes of utter darkness swirling with deep and inescapable insanity. It was a sight to behold. Sharp coughed to grab his attention and Adrien's features focused on Dr Cassidy.

"Hello doctor, I'm assigned to help you with Mr Zsasz."

The red-haired doctor appeared shaken but forced a small smile. "You're new," she observed, "I was not aware we throw our new staff into the deep end of the pool."

"The boy is quite confident in his abilities, Dr Cassidy. And his references suggest he is up to the task."

"And I'm sure calling him 'boy' also heightens his confidence, Warden Sharp," Dr Cassidy quipped sourly. Adrien was bemused by the toxic back and forths between the two and secretly wondered if Sharp had any control over his staff. So far it seemed he did not. "But I have to agree that you need to know exactly what you signed up for. Please escort Mr Zsasz safely back to his cell, thank you."

Adrien nodded his head shortly and began to carefully undo Zsasz restraints that connected him to the chair beside the desk. The man himself was eerily quiet and barely even _breathed_ as he was released from the chair. Armed guards in thick protective garments were admittedly closeby if anything did go awry, however, it didn't stop Adrien's imagination from running wild. What if he undid one too much? What if Zsasz was stronger than this crude metallic collar? What if he had a knife on him and was ready to strike any second?

Zsasz, still prominently restrained from movement, was able to stand up and gaze boorishly at Adrien. Dark eyes looked him up and down and he swore the man's tongue flicked out for a moment. A small click from a firearm stopped the once-over and Zsasz spoke smoothly, "you're not worth a mark."

He let out a relieved breath; for once he was glad to be considered worthless.

"Good to know. Let's get you back to your cell then, Mr Zsasz."

The escorting was easy enough once Adrien calmed down and stopped thinking about how Zsasz could easily turn around and bite out his throat. It had been a rush, a petrifying rush, to be so close to a killer and to survive the encounter. He was perturbed slightly to find out that Zsasz was held in solitary confinement in a smaller cell than the others, even more so when he saw that the metallic collar would be chained to the walls of the cell to restrict movement. It seemed inhumane but then who was he to tell them so? Zsasz, after all, was a cold-hearted monster.

He didn't put up a struggle as Adrien chained him up securely. As he clipped the last chain, his face dangerously close to Zsasz yellowed teeth, the man hissed like a snake. He was startled so much he fell backwards and hit the stone floor. Cackles of laughter filled his head as embarrassment blossomed his refined cheeks.

"You may not be worth a mark but others will want to play with you, little fly."

 _Crack_. A howl of pain. The butt of the guard's firearm had smacked against Zsasz's jaw so roughly it caused it to dislocate.

"Have a good night, scum, I'll tell the doctors about your _self-inflicted_ injury tomorrow," the guard spat cruelly. The guard whipped around and jerked on Adrien's arm so he was back onto his feet. "Do yourself a favour kid and find another job."

Adrien didn't retort, he couldn't, and instead walked out of the cell on weak legs. He walked right into Sharp. Sharp had the most smug, piggish smirk he had ever seen on a man. While Adrien hated waiting for interviewers, he found he hated Sharp even more. He wore a similarly dirty smirk as he said, "No problem at all, like I said."

Sharp's smirk dropped ever so slightly. "Well then I guess you'll fit right into our staff, Mr Elsha."

Somehow, Adrien knew that Sharp would throw every challenge he could at him...

What joy.

* * *

 **While I have a semi-plot planned out for this, its mostly just going to be about this orderly meeting all the familiar residents of Arkham. I needed to write something to get back into Batman so here it is xD been a while since I've written a male OC so I hope he isn't too mary-sue, or the male equivalent anyway.**

 **Anywho, reviews welcome if you want to write some prompts or requests :)**


	2. Flattery

_Chapter One_

 _Flattery_

* * *

Adrien stared at his reflection in the small mirror above the sink; while his platinum blond hair had grown considerably to now curl around his ears he still wasn't satisfied. His blue eyes had darkened from their previous lightness so many years ago and not to mention his skin had become an even paler complexion than his sickly youth. Gotham really did change you, both physically as well as mentally. The mirror itself was badly scratched and his shower had caused some condensation to feather around the edges.

"You'll be late."

His neck prickled with nostalgia. It was still strange to revert between English with his colleagues and German with his sister. He snorted. "All the staff are late. It's not surprising there are so many breakouts."

"Why did you go there? You could've worked anywhere else why there?" She whined. He could hear the true distress behind her words.

He sighed. She was right, he could've gone anywhere else for a job but he chose the place with the highest staff casualties. "Well I want a chance at dating a hot doctor, don't I?"

"You could've worked at Gotham General Hospital for that."

"I could've," he agreed, "but where's the fun in that?"

* * *

"Here are the files you wanted Dr Cassidy," Adrien said as he placed a rather hefty file on her desk. The file in question was that of Jervis Tetch AKA Mad Hatter, one of Dr Cassidy's other troublesome patients.

The tired doctor thanked him quietly. Out of all the staff it was only really her that he would consider a friend. Many of the doctors treated the orderlies like lower-class citizens and even the orderlies themselves disliked his confident stride within his duties, so in retrospect he was glad she didn't mind his company. Her red hair was messily tied into its usual bun and she was nursing a coffee mug close to her chest. To that he couldn't blame her as they were not protected from the chilly winter air inside the asylum walls. "You've been here for a good two weeks now. You can call me Sarah."

Adrien let out a small laugh. "I didn't realise these things had a timeframe. Sharp doesn't think I'll last a month."

Dr Cassidy's features suddenly sunk into the same grim expression everyone wore. It frustrated Adrien at how grim everyone was. "As much as I hate to admit it he's probably right if you're not careful. Today you made a mistake."

Adrien raised his hands defensively. "No one told me that just mentioning Alice in Wonderland would set him off. Apart from that and the first incident with Zsasz I've had no problems with anyone that Sharp has sent my way. Not even Jones has sniffed at me, to which I'm more than grateful for," he said. Dr Cassidy shook her head. "What?"

"You. Everyone calls him Croc but you call him Jones like he's human, why?"

Adrien stood silently. For the first time his eyes dulled and the blue was consumed by dark sadness. His voice cracked as he spoke, "all it takes is one person to save another's life...all it takes is one person to show empathy."

"So you empathise with a monster that has mutilated and killed innocent people?" Dr Cassidy questioned with a slight sharpness.

"I don't-" he began, "I don't empathise with what he's done. I empathise with what he is."

Dr Cassidy shook her head. "I don't understand. When I go through these halls all I see is monsters who want to hurt others, not need, _want_. I used to believe these people could be helped but after...after Zsasz doing what he did I no longer believe they can be saved."

"And yet you're still his doctor," Adrien quipped casually. Dr Cassidy's head shot up but then she simply took a sip of her coffee. "Look," he continued as he picked up Tetch's file, "Jervis Tetch. Proof that a broken heart can have serious consequences. I mean how human can it be to feel brokenhearted?"

Dr Cassidy crossed her legs. "You think Hatter is anywhere near human? What Hatter has is obsessive compulsive disorder. He can't help himself. What about the poor girl? All she did was decline his affections and he kidnaps her? What about all the other terrified women he's kidnapped over the years? That is not even adding the people he's brainwashed."

"Yes I know that all of that is terrible, it truly is, but think about it. Take away all of that, take away the insanity and the rhymes and the Mad Hatter persona and you have an insecure man suffering from a declined first love," Adrien exclaimed, his hands waving all over the place as he explained further with utter passion in every syllable. "Another one, uh, Harley Quinn. Respected doctor, good woman who genuinely cared about these people and then falls in love with a manipulator. You can't blame someone for falling in love with the wrong type of person because we're all guilty of that."

Dr Cassidy could only laugh at his delusional ideas. It was the first time she had laughed in a long time and Adrien seemed pleased with the result. "They will eat you alive if you keep thinking like that. And I think I would genuinely miss you handing me my files and cups of coffee," she said and smiled warmly.

Adrien smirked. "Oh I'm sure you could find another sap to do that for you."

She shot him a quizzical look. "Sap?"

"That is an American slang term, yes?"

"Yes but I don't think you're using it correctly."

"Ah well," Adrien said mischievously, "maybe you can teach me some better slang terms over coffee, Sarah."

He left her office and felt pleased by her flattered expression as he closed the door. Now all he had to do was find Dr Kellerman. That would have been easy if the asylum wasn't so incredibly huge, nor that it was split into three main buildings across the entire island. He had some bearings on certain places, like Dr Cassidy's office, but otherwise the asylum was just a blur of similar corridors and similar rooms and similar faces. He knew it was somewhere near Intensive Care, at least.

He wandered that way with Pamela Isley's file and found himself within a large room he hadn't come across before. He probably should have gone the other way but his eyes focused on the cell in the centre of the room. It wasn't exactly a cell and more like a glass prison. The occupant inside was lying down flat on the floor, possibly asleep, but once she felt his eyes on her she sat up seductively and laughed. "A lost little bird trying to find his tree?"

"Bird? I'll add that to the growing list of things I've been called by all the patients."

"Really? Tell me," she commanded softly.

He supposed he could humour the seductress. "Fly, bitch, March Hare, oh a good one was Nazi and I'm sure Harley called me pretty boy when she was with you in the cafeteria."

Ivy tilted her head slightly. "It's rude to eavesdrop."

"Its rude to talk about someone behind their back."

"Touché, but she wasn't wrong."

He took a small step towards her. "Am I supposed to be flattered?"

In retaliation she stood up and glided up close to the glass, her glowing green orbs inviting him closer. "I don't need to flatter you. It won't be long before someone gets to you and while I would love to see a meatsack ripped apart...I'm willing to make an exception for you."

He took another step closer, his smirk growing as redness bloomed his cheeks. "Oh really? What's the catch?"

"No catch," she said while fluttering her eyelashes, "just if you let me out for a tiny little while we can play."

He was right up close to the glass now and could feel the humid air that she was somehow producing even when they were separated by a thick layer of glass. "Play what?"

She pursed her plump lips. "Whatever you want. All you have to do is get the key and-"

He couldn't keep it up anymore and let out a giggle. Her face flashed with confusion. He giggled again. "Sorry I couldn't, I couldn't keep going."

"What?" she hissed venomously.

"Your seductions skills won't work on me, Miss Isley."

"Why?" She snapped, slamming her hands against the glass.

"Quite simply, Miss Isley, you're not my type." Adrien said and wore smug grin as he waved goodbye to her and sauntered back through the doors in hopes of not having to embarrassingly walk past her again to get to Dr Kellerman.

* * *

"His name is Adrien Elsha an' that's all I know," Harley spoke loudly around the mashed potato that was in her mouth. She was sat with Edward, Jonathan and Jervis in the cafeteria while they ate their dinner for the day. Armed guards stood around the edges and they looked more nervous than usual as Zsasz was close to having another of his meltdowns thanks to not being able to kill anybody in over a month. He was rocking backwards and forwards in his secluded seat, his body tethered to the table and chair by his metallic collar. No one pitied him. "What I don' get is why ya want ta know about him? He's just another of them orderlies like all the others."

"Sharp does not like him," Jonathan explained monotonously.

"Sharpy don' like anyone."

"Yes but even Quincy Sharp doesn't put a regular newby up against Zsasz, if he wants him to live that is," piped up Edward as he pushed aside his own tray of slop.

"An' why are youse twos interested in some orderly Sharpy don' like?"

Edward and Jonathan glanced at each other briefly. However, it was Jonathan that answered. "Because, Miss Quinn, we want to know why he's using a fake identity."

"WHAT?" Harley spat, half-chewed potato flying across the table and onto Jonathan's tray. He also pushed it aside with utter disgust. "No way how do ya know that?"

"I have contacts," Edward explained, "and these contacts are in a certain psychiatric ward in a hospital in Berlin."

"He's German so what?"

"It's not the fact he's German," Edward continued, irritated, "it's the fact he's using a fake name. His real name is Adalric Sarkissian, so, why change it? That's the real riddle here."

"Maybe he just didn't like it, Mistah E."

"Or maybe he has something to hide. Something to _exploit_."

Harley pouted. "You're a piece o' work sometimes Doctah Crane."

"I do my best, child. Ah it seems that they're serving salad as well this evening," Jonathan added as Ivy slithered towards them and sat down beside Harley, her fluorescent green neck had gained some new jewellery. "I did not think metal was your fashion, Isley."

" _Drop dead Crane_."

"My, my Pamela we are hormonal this evening," Edward teased, joining in on Jonathan's taunting as he usually did on the rare occasion the brazen doctor felt particularly chipper. Though it did mostly end in a fear gas catastrophe.

Harley suddenly pointed her spoon at both of them menacingly. "Oi! Lay off the teasin' or I'll find a place to stick this. They're just messin' with ya Red. We was just talking about that new orderly, the pretty boy."

Ivy's already angered features turned cold at the mention of him. She stabbed into the salad on her plate aggressively and shoved it into her mouth. It was cannibalistic to eat one of her own babies, but the curse of her old humanity meant she had to eat something if she wanted to protect them all. And it also served as a greater anger release to pierce it with the plastic fork. "Leprechaun boy would have a better chance of wooing him," she spat.

It took a moment for him to realise but once Edward knew his face scrunched up, offended. "How dare you! I am a man of high intellect, far greater than that of you Pamela, and to mock me with such a ludicrous myth-"

"Hush, Edward. What do you mean by that exactly? Are we losing our seductive skills, Isley?"

"What I mean Crane," Ivy hissed sweetly, "not even my pheromones will work on...someone like him."

Blank faces greeted her. She rolled her eyes.

"Want to play with the March Hare? You must find his weak point, if you dare. He is fast and he is slick, but some words will make him _slip_ ," Jervis giggled. A few groans echoed around the table.

"Who set him off? I swear if it's that Neanderthal guard again-"

"Edward shush," Jonathan snapped and ignored the oversized child's pout as he turned to Jervis. "Do you know something about him?"

Jervis giggled manically again. He was quite deep in his delusions this time after spent so long consciously aware of himself. However, Jonathan needed to know what was driving this new orderly. Pretending to ignore him upon their first meeting had brought him great satisfaction at seeing the fear in his eyes at the mere sight of him, briefly mind, but it was clear he had some delightful fears just beneath the surface. Most of the new staff had bored him quickly, predictable in their drives and their fears, and even Stephen was slowly becoming more irritating each session. But this one, this one was something new. Something _outside_ of Gotham.

"Run rabbit run, as fast as you can. Don't look _back_." Jervis said and then continually muttered the phrase quietly.

Jonathan sighed. "He's not useful in this state." He turned back to Edward. "If you've finished sulking I have a proposition to make with you, with _all_ of you."

"What's the scheme now Doctah Crane?" Harley asked excitedly.

Jonathan wore a small grin. "That would be telling, child. But while he may have not fallen for Dr Isley's femininity, he won't be able to resist Edward's...charm."

The flattery worked and Edward's ego was inflated once again.

It was worth the humiliation of pairing Edward Nygma and charm...

* * *

 **After this chapter there will be more Rogues involved than OCs, just needed to set everything up...**


	3. Green-eyed Monster

_Chapter Two_

 _Green-eyed Monster_

* * *

His breath came out in small puffs of smoke as he wrapped the coat further around his body. Jim Gordon had grown accustomed to many strange things over the years, as was needed when the police were constantly up against costumed criminals and also when working with a man whom, dressed as a bat, continually defeats these costumed criminals. But there was one thing that Gordon never liked seeing: an innocent victim. As his old eyes met hollow ones he wondered how many more doors he could knock on and tell them their child, husband, wife or sibling was dead. To see a face frown, to pale, to scrunch up in confusion...that was the worst moment for any cop. And yet it was his duty to do so.

"Doesn't this seem odd to you?" Bullock said.

Gordon turned to his old friend with a wrinkled frown. "Isn't it always?"

"Yeah Gotham is full of freaks sure, but _this_ , really? Jim if this is what we think it is-"

"It might not be," he reasoned.

"But," Bullock interrupted, "if it is, what the hell are we gonna do? Because as soon as the press find out about this we've got nothin' to tell them."

Gordon's eyes befell on the girl again, pale as a snowy day and shimmering in the streetlamp's orange glow. He sighed, taking out a cigarette packet and offering one to Bullock before pressing one to his lips. "Well, we're not gonna tell them that there's a vampire roaming around in Gotham City." He lit the cigarette and sucked in a deep, calming gulp of smoke.

"No, we just have a man-sized bat knocking out nutjobs every night," Bullock countered snarkily.

" _Hello Detective Bullock_."

Bullock swivelled around and fired a bullet. The crack turned into a soft _chink_ as the now crushed bullet fell onto the floor. The Batman's head looked blankly at the bullet before shooting a menacing glare at the sweating detective. "Did I startle you?"

"That's kinda your thing," Bullock replied nervously, "I'll leave you two to it Jim….I think I need a drink."

With Bullock gone Batman hopped down from the streetlight and began studying the victim. Jim knew better than to intervene. If they wanted to find the killer he had no choice in the matter, his faith in the police had spiralled since the appearance of the dark-cloaked vigilante so many years ago. Commissioner or not he knew that they were helpless without Batman.

"Well?" Jim asked gruffly.

"Her name is Evangeline Sprocker, twenty-two years old, junior librarian at Gotham's library. No sign of a struggle but…"

"But two punctures on her neck," Jim finished grimly. "I'm willing to believe anything, but vampires in Gotham?"

"Copycats? Cultists? There's always an explanation."

Jim chuckled roughly. "Try explaining to the mayor that The Batman isn't a public menace then talk to me about there always being an explanation."

Batman nodded his head knowingly. The only apology he could give. "Have there been other victims similar to this?"

"Just one. A teenager a couple of weeks back but while he was drained of blood there wasn't puncture wounds. All forensics could find was a small incision in his arm." Jim's face soured. "Don't you usually have a sidekick with you these days?"

"He's...resting." Batman answered coolly.

"Right."

"Any connecting factors?"

Jim raised an eyebrow. He knew that the _boy wonder_ was always a touchy subject with the Bat no matter which Robin it was, but he couldn't press on the matter with more potential victims in his mind. "Nothing. Both were different ages, race, background. If anything the only connection is that they both had green eyes."

"Green. You're sure?"

"Unless one miraculously changes to another colour, yes."

Batman pulled a bizarre-looking contraption from his belt, the yellow vibrant in the darkness. "I promise these killings will stop."

Jim snorted. "Everytime you say that you turn up at GCPD with a new costumed criminal."

"There's always one more."

Batman fired the contraption and out shot a metallic hook towards a building. Up and up he went, without a goodbye, and disappeared into the darkness. Jim knew better than to protest. Dawn began to poke its golden head up from Gotham's waters.

"Officer," Jim said, "go find Miss Sprocker's family's address."

"Would you like me to tell them, Commissioner?"

Jim shook his head. "No I'll tell them."

 _There's always one more_ , Jim thought numbly, _always someone's child_.

* * *

"You're not serious about this?"

"I am completely serious," Sharp replied as he sauntered down the corridor, followed closely by a scurrying Adrien.

"Restraining one of the patients is one thing but watching _four_ of them in _one_ room? I can't do that on my own!"

"Dr Leland and Dr Kellerman will both be there to conduct the session and there will be a second orderly there to assist also. I thought you would have jumped at the opportunity to show your significant capabilities with the patients."

"A group therapy session with four high-security patients is _not_ what I had in mind."

"Come, come Adrien my boy. This is the exact experience you need, who knows, perhaps you'll be in charge of all your fellow colleagues one day. _If_ you impress me."

With that Sharp patted him on the shoulder and waddled towards his office. Adrien stopped dead, feeling somewhat faint, but pushed himself to remain calm as he went to collect the patient he was assigned to take to this group therapy session. Partly he was intrigued to finally meet the proclaimed 'prince of puzzles' and outside of his deathtraps he was, frankly, harmless.

He knew why Sharp was doing this. In a day or so he would have been at the asylum for a month and so, surviving past that, he would prove Sharp wrong. And he guessed Sharp wasn't the type of person who liked being proved wrong. A group therapy session was either a way to scare him off or get him killed. Brilliant.

"Alright Nygma," Adrien said, "time to go."

Edward Nygma lazily turned his head to look at him, sighed, and rested it back onto the rock-hard pillow. His bed was clean, neat, folded and wrapped perfectly which contradicted with the green-painted scrawls on the walls and smears of question marks. Some looked new while others were crusted and aged. Surely someone cleaned it up?

"I think I would like to skip today's theatrics," Edward said.

"Come on now Mr Nygma, if anyone enjoys theatrics it's you."

"And how, good man, do you know that?"

"Simple. I googled you. Now can we please hurry up?"

Edward slid his whole body around to face him then, feet barely touching the cold, tiled floor. He was quite dishevelled and severely drained without his green three-piece suit, Adrien thought, though his eyes still sparkled with maniacal mischief. "How about a riddle?"

"No riddles," he answered firmly.

"If you have 'googled me' as you so put it, then you know by answering one of my riddles correctly I will think higher of you. Perhaps I will become less of a _bother_ as you escort me to the drawl these people call therapy."

Adrien crossed his arms and sighed. He noticed the armed guard beside the cell was becoming restless. A restless man and a loaded gun was never a good mix. "Alright, one riddle."

"If you have me you want to share me, but, if you share me you no longer have me. What am I?"

For once in his life Adrien was thankful his sister enjoyed word puzzles. Ever since they were children she had a puzzle book cupped in her tiny hands and while he did not care for them at least he recalled the answers that she would excitedly tell him once he had given up. It may have just saved his life right now. "The answer is a secret. Easy."

"Now, now, now I don't think two large egos could fit into such a small space. But," Edward paused to dramatically stand up and raise his arms, "a deal is a deal and if anything I am a man of my word. Take me to this wasted attempt at enlightening my dark soul."

He did keep his word and didn't cause a fuss on the journey towards the group therapy room. He did, on the other hand, chatter and babble the _entire_ time. For a moment Adrien almost prefered Zsasz and his silence but at least Nygma was unlikely to try and slice his throat. Talk him to death? Probably. He knocked and once he heard the confirmation to enter he stepped inside and froze. His eyes jumped to each patient: Harley Quinn, Jervis Tetch and Jonathan Crane. His eyes seemed to linger longer on the disgraced doctor before he blinked and the previous hesitation washed away.

Much like the rest of Arkham the room held a rundown appearance without actually falling apart. Grey walls, school-like chairs that rocked back harshly if you leaned slightly, and a stiff odour of mild damp. They really needed more funding.

"Hey Mistah E!"

"Afternoon Miss Quinn. Jervis and Jonathan it's always a pleasure."

"If only it was likewise," Jonathan answered sourly.

Edward pretended to be offended as he took his chair beside him. It was quite a believable performance judging by the uncomfortable looks from the doctors and orderlies alike. He waited with a pout on his face.

Adrien walked over and undid the restraints on his hands, as was the rules in the asylum, and then took his own place beside the other orderly against the far wall. He was a middle-aged man, bald, and trembling as he scooted closer to him. It was no surprise that he had been the one to escort Crane to the room, the poor man.

"You two may leave," Dr Leland spoke confidently.

"No can do," one of the armed guards replied, "Sharp's ordered them to stay with you."

"And do what exactly? There will be no trouble here. These patients know better."

"That we do Doctah Leland!"

The guard shook his head. "Sharp's orders. They stay." He left the room with his partner close behind him. Now all that separated the patients from attacking the two doctors were Adrien and the trembling orderly. Somehow he doubted it would end well if any of them decided to be violent.

"We won't be any trouble, promise," Harley spoke cheerfully.

"I know you won't Harley," Dr Leland smiled warmly at her like an old friend. "Fred if you'd like to leave I won't stop you." The orderly patted him on the shoulder, whispered _good luck_ , and left the room as casually but as quickly as he could. It was now just Adrien against four high-security patients...the day was getting better and better. "Adrien if you-"

"I think I would like to stay Dr Leland."

"I don't think so," Dr Kellerman growled.

"Stephen it's up to him, if he wishes to stay he can. Grab a chair and sit here please."

He was in a sort of haze as he did what she commanded and sat down beside her. Now that he was facing the four of them he realised every pair of eyes were staring back at _him_. He swallowed nervously; he hated the spotlight at the best of times. Suddenly leaving sounded like a good idea-

"March Hare had a run in with a fierce rose. He did, he did, he did!"

Silence. Many curious eyes landed on him again. Damn.

"Do ya mean Red?"

"It is not like we have an abundance of plant-based humanoids to choose from," Jonathan mumbled.

"Now, now-"

"Don't be a meanie Doctah Crane!"

"Yes quite right," Edward chimed in with a flourish of his hair, "just because you're a grouch doesn't mean you can hurt her _feewings_."

"Edward that is hardly helpful-"

"Just because your narcissism and superiority complex automatically puts you above her does _not_ mean she can ask such wasteful, and frankly, idiotic questions. It only lengthens my suffering of being put in this laughable session with the likes of _you_."

And like that the room burst into thunderous voices of equally strong-opinionated people. All order was lost in a matter of seconds. Adrien shrunk into himself, frozen, knowing he should have tried to do something to control the situation but all that confidence and experience abandoned him. It was like being in that classroom again. Flashes of a small number of peers: loud, unruly and eager. And then him. Sat with his legs and hands clenched, silent, as he waited for the daily battle to end. When he came back to the present it was only Harley and Edward arguing with Dr Leland standing in front of them as a sort of referee. Dr Kellerman was nowhere to be seen and Jervis was gone too. His clouded eyes focused on Jonathan, who, with bright blue eyes of ice, held a shred of a smirk on his thin lips. Adrien blinked. No, the disgraced doctor _was_ looking at him. And _smirking_.

Dr Leland suddenly appeared in front of him and blocked Jonathan from his view. She spoke breathlessly, "this session is over. Take Harley back to her cell, please."

"O-of course," Adrien answered. He stood up and realised he would have to pry Harley off of Edward's hair before he could actually restrain her...

Once Jonathan was back in his own solitary cell he let out a long sigh. He was proud of his little disruption and it meant he could focus on _Adalric's_ reactions to the whole debacle. It wasn't a shock to see that confidence slip away from him, after all, he was just an ordinary man amongst four high-profile criminals bickering. Well, he supposed three as Jervis was still lost to his delusions. But. It was not _fear_ he saw, it was something far more subtle, more hidden beneath the surface. _Anxiety_. Jonathan rubbed at his growing stubble as he laid down on the bed, the rusty creaks filling the silence. Anxiety was common, incredibly common, but even in a psychiatric ward in Berlin there must have been similar occurrences...so why did that anxiety spring forth?

And then the stutter.

Oh that _delicious_ stutter of a man becoming aware of the severity of his role. Of the sheer danger of being so close to insanity while he himself was sane. For now. He mused on every motion, every gesture, every spark of human complexity that Adalric had shown in those few seconds where he could observe without anyone's knowledge save for Harley and Edward. It was clear the past was the cause, again, relatively common as he himself had become his persona due to his own past. Something in him desired to continue observing and collecting despite it all appearing so ordinary on the surface. He wondered what was the story behind Adalric Sarkissian. As far as he could assume there was more to him than an orderly from one of Berlin's psychiatric wards.

He wondered, in Tetch's own words, how far down the rabbit hole Sarkissian could fall...

* * *

 **Not sure if I'll include shipping in this...though I'm open to suggestions (particularly for Adrien) but otherwise finally a peak into the 'storyline' of this as well as a but more of the Rogues.**

 **Next chapter will include more of the Master of Fear ;)**


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